


Happy Endings

by isxbella



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Multi, a huge ouat rewrite in which graham lives and i fix/expand on related stuff, anti-regina because i’m not going to defend her actions towards graham and henry in s1, more characters/ships to be tagged as i update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25206838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isxbella/pseuds/isxbella
Summary: Graham Humbert- the man who is the Huntsman and yet isn’t- knows what home feels like. The forest, the bite of the wind, his wolf brother’s howl, the brown-eyed boy with the stripy scarf. The beautiful, brave blonde who carved her way into his world with her bare hands. That’s what home feels like. That’s his happy ending. That’s what he fights for.Nobody told Emma Swan happy endings were easy, but nobody told her they were this hard either. Her life has become one uphill battle against whatever Storybrooke throws at her- and one of these days it might not end happily. Still, she saved Graham (the roommate who she cares about more than she should) from Regina that night in the cemetery, which is a start.And, Henry Mills doesn’t know a lot, but he believes and in his books that’s much more powerful. He believes in fairy tales and in saviours slaying dragons. He believes in the sense of belonging he feels when his mother ruffles his hair or Graham kneels dawn to look him in the eyes. It is easy for Henry to believe in their happy ending, because it is all he’s done since he tracked down Emma in Boston.
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Henry Mills & Emma Swan, Huntsman | Sheriff Graham & Henry Mills, Huntsman | Sheriff Graham/Emma Swan, Prince Charming | David Nolan/Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard
Comments: 20
Kudos: 32





	1. pilot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before “The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter”, I mainly expand on the first six episodes to give Graham and Emma more development, but also Graham and Henry. We were robbed of a proper relationship between the two because you can get Graham babysat and provided comfort. (Really, I’m overflowing with headcanons about those two.)

"She's amazing, Graham," Henry chattered as he hurried busily around his bedroom. "She's the one I told you about for Operation Cobra."

"Henry, slow down," Graham ordered, putting his hand against the boy's forehead once he had obediently sat still on the end of his bed.

The boy sighed. "She didn't hurt me."

Graham removed his hand and went over to turn on the radiator. "You're freezing, Henry. Now go into the bathroom and brush your teeth. It's hours past your bedtime, young man."

The boy got up and grabbed a pair of UFO pyjamas from a drawer. As he left the room, he looked up at Graham again. "Will you have dinner with me at Granny's tomorrow if I behave?"

Graham bit his lip. "You know that your mom-"

"Please," Henry asked with his well-perfected puppy eyes. Graham's resolve crumbled and he nodded at the boy- who proceeded to scamper out of the room and down the hallway.

The Sheriff spent a few moments drawing Henry's curtains and making his bed before heading downstairs where he found Regina and Henry's birth mother staring stonily at each other over glasses of cider in the living room.

"Ah, Graham," Regina greeted him in a cold tone. "You will show Miss Swan out, she is quite aware of her role in Henry's life."

Graham's eyes fell to the blonde who gave him a small smile and began shrugging on her red leather jacket.

"I will," he agreed with slight reluctance, as Emma stood up and came to join him at the corner of the room. He didn't miss Regina's viciously victorious smirk as they left, but didn't have time to dwell on it because Emma spoke.

"Your name is Graham, right?" she asked, keeping the front door open for him as they left. "I'm Emma."

"Hi," Graham said awkwardly, waving at her. She laughed and unlocked her car.

"Is Mayor Mills always so-"

"Intense?" Graham guessed, and Emma nodded. "She cares about Henry, it's just that he might not always realise how much."

"She said as much... I'm just being paranoid," Emma sighed, opening the car door.

Graham tilted his head to one side. "It's okay. Henry's a great kid. He's very creative and normally quite well-behaved." 

She seemed to relax slightly, but he wasn't sure if he was making it up. "Usually?"

"When he's not running away," Graham joked and Emma's smile faded, causing him to mentally kick himself. He rested an arm on her car, frowning at a scratch in the yellow paint. 

"Maybe," he said, after a few seconds of awkward silence, "you should stay a bit longer. I know that kid well, and he looked the happiest he's been in a while to have you around."

Emma disagreed immediately. "No offence, Officer, but Regina has made it clear where everything stands, legally and personally."

"As the local law enforcement, I see no issue in it if you choose to stay around. Although it's Sheriff, if we're being technical." Graham shrugged, his eyes not leaving Emma's. "However, I do have an issue with letting people drive around my town under the influence."

"Oh, please, I'm not drunk," Emma said, rolling her eyes. "And it's hardly your town, _Sheriff_. Unless you have a serious rule against me driving back to Boston, I'm going now."

Graham took his arm off her car and watched her get in with a slight smile. She gave him a theatrical wave and drove off with a blast of exhaust fumes.

As her yellow car left his sight, Graham felt a chill rush over him- as if watching her go was the the wrong thing to be doing- but disregarded it and turned back to the house to report his departure to Regina. At the top window, he saw Henry staring at him, but the boy quickly ducked his head out of view when he saw Graham looking up at him. 

He considered going up and checking on the kid again, but his phone rang before he could pursue the thought. He took a deep breath and answered with an artificially cheerful, "Sheriff of Storybrooke."

"Hi, Sheriff," greeted a voice that Graham recognised as Archie's.

"Dr. Hopper! Hi."

"Are you acquainted with one Miss Swan? I don't mean to bother you at this hour, but it would seem she's had a little too much to drink and-"

"Are you with her now?"

"She's not bleeding, Sheriff, but the car's a state and she's out cold," Archie explained.

Graham ran down the street towards his parked squad car without hanging up. "You need to tell me where she is."

Archie sighed. "She's by the sign, so it looks like she was trying to leave town."

—

Once Regina had stormed out of Mary Margaret's classroom, Emma let out a deep sigh. The woman was unbearably domineering and she hadn't exactly had a good night's sleep. She had been mortified to find that she'd slept in a cell, and even more mortified when Graham was the one to release her with a fine.

"I'm sorry I can't be of more help," Mary Margaret said, hovering in the doorway of the classroom, but clearly reluctant to leave Emma and Graham alone inside. It took a moment for Emma to realise she was lying.

"That's not true- is it?” Emma mused, her sixth sense for deception sniffing out the schoolteacher’s lie. "Do you know where he is?"

The woman looked flustered, then resigned. "I... you might want to check his castle."

"Of course," Graham groaned, shaking his head. "Thank you, Ms. Blanchard- I should've realised that's where he'd be."

Emma had to hurry to follow the Irish man out of the maze of corridors in the school building. "What was she talking about?"

Graham looked back, and slowed to a jog as he made it out of the entrance and started down the pavement. "I've been tracking down Henry whenever he runs away since he was old enough to walk. His castle is in the playground, but nobody ever goes there because Regina classed it as unsafe before he was born and nobody has got around to building a new one since. It’s been a while since he’s been down enough to fall back into this habit."

"So it has the added benefit of disobeying his mom alongside being isolated and _apparently_ an unthinkable hiding spot?" Emma checked, as they turned another corner.

"It's not exactly unthinkable," Graham replied, frowning as he slowed to match Emma's pace, "I just forgot about it until Mary Margaret mentioned it."

Graham didn't tell her why he'd forgotten, because in his eyes being distracted by Emma was as embarrassing as being arrested whilst unconscious.

They turned one last bend and Emma spotted the playground. It was deserted except for a few seagulls and Henry's small figure on his castle- a simple play structure made of wood.

Emma hesitated. "You know the kid, you've done this before. I'll stay here."

Graham shook his head. "No, we do this together- you need to show you care about him. He's struggled with the knowledge that you abandoned him for a long time, and you're the only one who can comfort him about that."

Warily, Emma approached Henry behind Graham. The boy didn't look up from his storybook as Graham sat on the castle next to him, legs dangling, the action performed with a distinct air of familiarity.

"Henry? Want to get that dinner at Granny's? Emma can join us," Graham prompted, and Emma decided it was best not to protest about her sudden new dinner arrangements with a stranger and the son she gave up. However, the boy in question appeared unaffected by Graham's proposal. 

After what seemed like an age, Henry spoke. "I know why she gave me up."

"Oh, kid-" Emma sighed, stepping closer to the boy.

Henry finally looked up from the illustration of a woman Emma assumed was Snow White dancing with her prince- and Emma was surprised to see he was smiling at her.

"You wanted to give me my best chance."

Graham's eyes met Emma's cautiously. Before the adults could decide on a way forward, Henry spoke again.

"Just like your parents- Snow White and Prince Charming- wanted for you."

"Henry, I don't think Emma is ready for Operation Cobra yet," Graham said, his suddenly serious tone surprising Emma. "Maybe we should get dinner first, so we don't freak her out. We need her onboard"

Henry thought about it, and assented. "She has to believe, or she'll never break the curse."

"I'm still here!" Emma protested. "And I told you- Snow White is a fairytale, Henry. Okay? That might be hard to understand, but maybe we can talk more about it over... dinner."

"We'll make you understand, Emma. Don't worry," Henry declared, climbing down from the castle purposefully and grabbing Graham's hand. He grinned at her widely and offered her his other hand. 

She took it, if only because she didn't want to be the reason he stopped smiling. 

—

New York has the best pizza in the world, but Granny's has the world's best hamburgers. After a hamburger, hot chocolate and fries drenched in ketchup, Emma was feeling much more agreeable to Henry's theories. She still didn't believe she was some royal saviour, but she could see why Graham entertained his fantasies and how some of the town's inhabitants could be fairytale characters. (His shrink was a ginger with a dalmatian called Pongo, and Regina did have evil qualities.) 

She had also been convinced by Henry and Graham to stay a bit longer in Storybrooke, and had arranged a room above the diner which Granny and Ruby had been ecstatic to have her stay in.

Both of them had their charms: Henry had a lot of both her and Neal in him (as much as he hated to say it), and Graham had taken her off-guard with how well he got on with Henry. It had been a long time since she had relaxed and enjoyed a nice meal without it ending up with her diner partner in prison. 

By the time Graham had to take Henry home for his curfew, Emma had been initiated into Operation Cobra. She received a hug from Henry and a smile from Graham as they disappeared into the night, and she realised as she headed up to her room that she could get used to them. 


	2. the thing you love the most & snow falls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter, because I didn’t want to completely retell “Snow Falls” because I like it enough as it is.

"I'm impressed that you guessed that I like cinnamon on my cocoa, but I don't want or need gifts from you," Emma informed Graham sharply. He blinked, looking sleepily from the blonde with her eyebrows raised to the offending cup of hot chocolate that he'd definitely not ordered for her.

"I'm sorry to disappoint, Emma, but I didn't send you that," he replied with a soft chuckle, taking a sip from his own coffee- which he apparently drank with unhealthy amounts of sugar in. She narrowed her eyes at him, doubtless using the lie-detecting superpower she'd boasted about over dinner last night.

"Well, who did? You're my only friend here," she sighed after a moment.

Graham shrugged. "You do seem to have made quite the impression on everybody."

Emma snorted at his sincerity. "Yourself included?"

"Actually... I'm your secret admirer," a small voice said sheepishly. Emma looked over and involuntarily smiled at the sight of Henry dressed in his stripy scarf and oversized raincoat. He grinned back at her, backpack in one fist.

"Wait a second..." she said, at the same time as Graham jumped up and forcibly turned Henry around.

"You, young man," Graham said, his tone firm, "should be at school."

Henry pouted. "You guys can walk me to the bus stop?"

Emma agreed only after meeting Graham's pleading gaze, remembering what he and Regina had recounted about Henry skipping school.

The boy practically galloped down the street, his shoulder often bumping into Emma or Graham's arm. Along the way, he pointed out several more of Storybrooke's residents and named their fairytale counterparts- Marco the handyman was Geppetto and Mother Superior was the Blue Fairy from the very same story.

"So... do you know everybody's fairytale counterpart, then?" Emma asked, guiltily hoping to find a flaw in Henry's logic.

Henry barely considered it. "Almost."

Emma smiled to herself. "If I'm meant to be the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, then who's Graham? My dashing sidekick?"

For the first time, Henry faltered. "I think that you should get to know him before I tell you that."

Frowning, Emma looked up to Graham- who shrugged before he spoke. "I'm not allowed to know who I am either."

"Is he a villain?" Emma asked curiously, carefully watching her son's face, but it lit up at the sight of someone else.

"Hi, Ms. Blanchard!" Henry yelled enthusiastically, running from between the pair towards his teacher.

Emma rolled her eyes as the boy was escorted inside with a smile. "Nice save."

She felt Graham sigh at her side. "Do I look like I'm a bad guy?"

Emma involuntarily checked him out. Graham had a friendly face and an infectious smile, but it wasn't the charm of a villain- it was the nature of a good man. Accompanied with his police uniform (shirt, waistcoat, tie and big leather jacket) he looked more like a dork than a storybook menace.

"Well?" Graham prompted, his Irish accent thick.

Emma met his eyes and shook her head. "If he believed you're were a truly despicable villain, he wouldn't trust you with his secrets. I've not been around the kid too long, but it's clear that he cares about you, Graham."

With that, the blonde turned and walked away- leaving Graham to stare at her receding figure both awed and relieved.

(Emma discovered minutes later that Henry had sneaked crumpled book pages into her jacket pocket, and wondered why he had gifted her them purposefully without Graham knowing so.)

—

"This is ridiculous!" Emma protested from her cell. She had not expected to return to the police station at all, let alone a day later. Graham was aggravatingly calm about their situation, filling out paperwork at a desk with a pop tart in his non-writing hand. “Dr. Hopper gave me those papers.”

She rattled the prison bars in an attempt to get his attention, and succeeded when he looked up- speaking with his mouth full. "What do you want from me? I can't exactly set you free because I've had a few coffees with you and trust you- which I probably shouldn't, all things considered."

"You've- uh- got something there," Emma replied, raising her hand to touch her lower lip. Graham mirrored her, brushing off icing with his hand. Against her better judgement, Emma chuckled at him- causing him to laugh back at her.

He was cute, Emma guessed. If she was still in New York and things were less complicated they would have probably gone on a few dates before her walls came crashing in and she shut him out. But Storybrooke definitely wasn't New York, and she wasn't about to let her commitment issues destroy her only friendship- especially with the closest thing her son had to a father (at least from what she'd witnessed in her few days in Storybrooke).

"What are you thinking about?" Graham asked her, getting up from his desk to walk over to her. Emma shifted confidently on her feet as he approached.

She met his stare. "How I'm going to knock you out and steal your keys, all without getting caught on CCTV."

His serious expression flickered, his eyes betraying his amusement. He held up a piece of paper. "Your signature, Miss Swan."

She huffed, embarrassment causing her cheeks to flush. "I'll be needing a pen, Mr..."

Graham cocked his head to the side, retrieving a black ballpoint pen from his pocket. He offered it to her teasingly through the green bars. "It's Humbert. Sheriff Humbert to you."

She took the pen, fingers brushing against his without breaking eye contact. "Yessir. Do you want a curtsy too, Sheriff Humbert?"

"I'd like a signature, Miss Swan," he reminded her, brandishing the form.

She rolled her eyes. "It's Emma to you, Your Highness. And don't I legally get a lawyer to review all this? What am I signing anyway- a confession? Because I didn't steal those papers!"

For a moment she wasn't sure what he'd do or say, until he was unlocking the cell.

"You're letting me go?"

He smirked at her. "Actually, I think those famous mugshots of yours need updating."

"You're evil," she declared with mock sincerity, making him laugh.

"If upholding the law makes me evil, it's no wonder I'm supposedly a villain."

The throwaway comment made Emma tense and check that Henry’s storybook pages were still in her pocket. The action felt like a small betrayal, but she supposed the kid had good reason not to let Graham see them. It was just a story anyway. 

—

"I'll take what he's having," Emma told Granny, sliding onto the barstool to Graham's left. The sheriff acknowledged her with a nod, downing his shot of whisky. 

"You're not mad at me?" he asked her, only slightly surprised.

Emma took her shot and tossed it down her throat with a wince. "Eh. I broke the law, you're a cop. What's more important is that you're drinking heavily and- since you're my only friend- I want to know why."

Graham snorted. "You have Henry, and Mary Margaret since she paid your bail."

"You're not answering my question," she remarked, taking his next shot from him and drinking it before he could argue.

"Regina," he admitted, "is my problem. She wants me to arrest you- again- for damaging public property, among other things."

Emma laughed. "Is there evidence?"

"It's more complicated than that- me and Regina, we're complicated. I sort of do what she says... we have an arrangement."

"No!" Emma exclaimed. "You two don't..."

He winced. "As I said, complicated."

Emma drank her third shot in a single smooth action. "Honestly? I'm disappointed, I had you pegged as better than her."

Graham didn't respond for a moment, as if he couldn't find an answer for her. "I don't think Storybrooke is that simple, Emma. But we're not serious, or even official- it doesn't matter."

They sat there in stubborn silence for a few minutes, deep in thought. 

"Graham..." Emma began tentatively, "where do you live?"

"I rent from Gold, like everyone else. Why?"

Emma bit her lip uncertainly. "I don't have anywhere to sleep but my car, and seeing as you did just confirm that we're friends... I was hoping I could borrow your couch until I find somewhere else to stay."

"Of course, the no felons policy. You can stay with me," Graham replied, causing Emma to let out a sigh of relief, "but I can do better than a couch. I have a spare room, I was always intending to get a roommate... I just forget why I didn't."

Emma grinned, despite herself. "Okay! That's great. Thank you so, so much Graham- I mean it."

"Just think of it this way," Graham responded, "Henry would never let me live it down if I let his birth mother sleep on the streets."

—

Emma's second night in her new flat followed as stressful a day as her first had. She and Graham had been searching the woods for John Doe- now revealed to be David Nolan- all evening and all she wanted to do was crawl under the covers of her new bed. Small towns were hard work. 

"Don't you think it's awfully convenient that Regina just located Kathryn?" Emma sighed with only a hint of her argumentative tone left. She slumped onto the couch with a groan, and Graham laughed in the kitchen.

"Regina said David had been calling for her in his sleep," he reminded her, opening and closing cabinets with a lightning speed. Emma had yet to learn the ins-and-outs of 34 Hero's Palace (a building name that only inspired Henry's theories), but she was beginning to get used to Graham's constant presence.

"I doubt he was doing any talking from that coma," she scoffed, picking at a loose thread in one of the striped sofa cushions.

Graham looked bemused. "Firstly, stop that. Secondly, don't shoot the messenger."

Emma put the cushion down. "She didn't look pleased with you. Trouble in paradise?"

"Paradise? You've met the woman, she sucks the joy from everyone around her," Graham teased, before putting on a serious expression. "Besides, I stood up to her. Broke off whatever we had."

"Why? You didn't have to follow my advice, you know."

"I know. I've wanted out for a long time, you just gave me the confidence to do it. Anyway, it'd be unfair to string her along when I'm developing feelings for someone else," Graham said factually, walking into the living space with a mug in his outstretched hand. "You liked cinnamon on your cocoa, right?"

"Well remembered, Sheriff," Emma remarked, taking the warm mug with a smile. "It's almost like you're trying to suck up to me."

She watched his lips curl into a cheeky grin. "About that... you see, as a Sheriff, I have an allocated budget. And this budget... well, there's just enough cash for a Deputy's salary. Now, before you turn me down, I want you to think about it seriously."

"If I didn't know better, Sheriff, I'd say you liked me. First you befriend me, then you offer me a room- and now a job."

Graham watched her sip her cocoa. "Maybe it's all part of my villainous plan to murder you. You never know."


	3. the price of gold & the shepherd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may see in the chapter title that I’ve sidestepped “That Still Small Voice”, but I have my reasons! Emma is deputised earlier than this episode in my plot, so therefore the sudden appearance of the mines would make no sense, and is not necessary to the plot for now.

Granny's was always packed with loud customers at breakfast time, and among them was Sheriff Graham and his new roommate, Emma Swan. Graham was already on his second coffee, and his companion was complaining about the numerous sachets of sugar he was tipping into it.

"How do you drink that? It must be sickly, surely!" Emma protested, tearing off a chunk of croissant and placing it in her mouth. (While Graham's breakfast consisted of caffeine and sugar- plus the pop tart he'd undoubtedly eat at the station- Emma had been trying out all of Granny's pastries alongside a cup of cocoa.)

Graham rolled his eyes. "You said you were done judging me!"

Emma tilted her head to the side, and bit her lip to hold in laughter. A little exploration of Graham's apartment the previous night had uncovered numerous Star Wars boxsets and an unhealthy stash of Pixie Sticks.

The diner door jangled, but neither paid any attention to it until Regina stopped at their booth and cleared her throat threateningly.

"Ah, Madame Mayor," Emma said unfazed, a fake smile now plastered on her face. "That sounds nasty- perhaps you should get it checked out?"

Regina returned the nasty smirk. "I'm not scared of you, Miss Swan. You may think you have the upper hand, but I did a bit of research and what I found was very relieving."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Is this about me moving in with your ex-boyfriend?"

"If it was about anything, it would be about your somewhat illegal relationship with my son. But, no, you can play with Graham for a little while longer, Miss Swan," Regina said, her tone victorious.

Graham choked on his drink at her last sentence. "How... considerate of you."

"Graham- dear- I'm only letting her because I know she won't stay around much longer. Her longest stint anywhere was two years- although I can't imagine what she liked so much about Tallahassee," Regina gloated, before turning on heel and leaving the shop.

Coughing, Graham looked down at the table. Emma took a moment to gather her thoughts.

"She's going to let me play with you? What was that about?"

"Maybe she took the break-up worse than I thought," Graham winced.

Emma chuckled. "You can say that again."

Graham laughed too, but was cut off with the Star Wars theme blaring from his phone- much to Emma's amusement. "Stop it."

"Who is it?"

Graham's face darkened. "Regina. She's texted me about our council meetings."

"Are council meetings actually concuil meetings or..." Emma trailed off, before spilling her coffee down herself.

Graham all but howled with laughter, causing everyone else at the diner to stare at the pair. He stood up, winking at her. "See you at work, Swan. And since you're so interested, I'm not going to sleep with Regina today."

Emma stared at his receding figure, cheeks bright red as the stunned laughter around her revealed everyone had heard Graham's parting remarks.

—

"Really, Emma?"

Emma closed her eyes and shut the door behind her with a sigh. "Let's not have this conversation right now, please."

"No, let's. You can't have deluded yourself into thinking that what you did was okay," Graham said, arms folded as he approached her and his words speeding up as he spoke. "If we disregard the fact that as a police officer you have a duty to prosecute those breaking the law, you should not have gone behind my back to help Gold- who should have faced a court case regarding the fact he tried to purchase a child- and used police equipment to do so. Are we clear?"

"I'm not going behind your back! I barely know you, and I wasn't breaking any rules by trying to help out! You just said what Gold was doing wasn't legal, and you can't seriously have a case against Ashley- she's just given birth!"

Graham stared her down, unfazed. "I have a case. There's CCTV footage of her breaking and entering, as well as robbing and assaulting Mr Gold."

"Seriously, Graham?" Emma yelled, waving her hands wildly- one fist hitting his chest. "I can't believe that I thought we were friends. You're... you're such a jerk!"

She looked down, out of breath- her hand still on his chest. He smiled at her, blue eyes full of newfound mirth at her flushed face.

And then his mouth finds her's. It's unexpected and exhilarating, but he pulls away seconds later before it can go any further.

"We'll go over the police code of conduct again tomorrow, okay?" he smiled, taking a step back and relieving the tension. He looked slightly dazed.

She almost caved as she returned his gaze. "You can't arrest Ashley."

"Alright. I'll fine her instead. A hundred bucks."

Emma nodded, allowing herself to relax her posture and flop onto their couch, which creaked under her weight.

Graham turned around and let out a deep breath. His fingers gripped the kitchen work surface, using them to steady himself. A wave of vertigo hit him and he suddenly felt like throwing up. Images flickered in front of his eyes- a wolf, a forest, a crying girl and Regina smirking at him.

Slowly, he reached up and touched his chest. This out of breath, his heart should've been pounding a million miles an hour- but under his palm, he felt nothing.

Sleep, he decided. He was just stressed, all he needed was sleep.

—

"Hey, kid," Emma said affectionately as Henry bounded off the school bus in her direction. Their hunt for Ashley together the day before had made her more comfortable around her son, and he beamed as she ruffled his hair.

"Hi, Emma. Have you seen Graham today?" the small boy asked, matching her stride as they travelled down the street.

Emma frowned. After last night's row and kiss, Graham had been already out when she'd woken up and she hadn't seen him at work- although he left the code of conduct pointedly on her desk (along with a post-it begging her to take the night shift, and a bear claw as payment). "No, I can't say I have. I wouldn't be worried though, he was probably just on patrol today."

"That's not why I'm asking. He was knocking on the door for my other mom as I was leaving for school. He looked really upset, I thought maybe something had happened with you two," Henry rambled. "Which, by the way, if something had happened- I'd totally be your wingman. Graham's super cool."

His words caught Emma off-guard, and she stalled mid-stride. Was it that obvious that something had happened?

"So?" her son prompted, arms folded and a single eyebrow raised cockily.

"Wait a minute... Graham came to see Regina?" Emma backtracked, meeting Henry's brown-eyed faze. "I thought he cut things off with her."

"Cut what off with her?" Henry asked, expression suddenly changing from eager to afraid.

Emma cursed herself silently. "There was a period of time when they were, uh, involved."

She studied Henry carefully, watching his eyes fill with fear. She had expected disgust, shock or anger- but he was frozen still like he'd seen a ghost.

"Henry, what is it?"

His bubble broke, and he unhooked his backpack- scrambling desperately for his beloved storybook among its contents. Emma sighed as he found it, flipping through the pages urgently. He stopped at an illustration of a man and a woman that disturbed Emma, because the man was hunched over in pain and the woman was holding a heart- his heart, she realised- in her fist.

Henry was talking rapidly, pointing manically at the drawing. "I didn't want to tell you who Graham was, because you're Snow White's daughter and he was ordered to cut out her heart... not to mention his other crimes under the Queen's control. But... he's the Huntsman, as in from Snow White. The Evil Queen rips out his heart and forces him to do her bidding, and... and..."

"And what, Henry?" Emma whispered, caught up in the moment as Henry was almost shaking next to her. He turned over the page and this time the pair were kissing- the woman clearly in control. Emma's heart wrenched. She was going insane to even consider that the characters were actually Graham and Regina.

Henry continued. "I didn't know they were together... I didn't know she still controlled him. Otherwise, I would've stepped in but now... he's going to have to do something bad and it'll be all my fault."

"Henry, none of this- whatever you think is going on between him and your mom- is your fault. He's a grown adult, and he can make his own decisions-"

"No, he can't!" Henry yelled, taking a step back from her, a single tear falling down his cheek. "Don't you understand? He can't make his own decisions! He can't get away! Please... if you care about Graham at all, you need to help him.


	4. the heart is a lonely hunter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to wickedalwayswins for helping out with the phone call! (It’s Henry, but I never confirm it.)

As promised, Emma Swan took the night shift- which began a few hours after she dropped Henry off at Dr Hopper's. The boy's therapist had assured her he would be able to tackle the situation with Henry and his delusions about Graham's relationship with his mother.

She played it over with a wince as she sipped her coffee in the police car. She was situated outside of Henry's house as a precaution, although all the lights were off and there were no signs of life through his open window.

The sudden noise of the police walkie-talkie setting off woke her from her thoughts, and she answered with a tone that represented her exhaustion. "You've reached 911, this is Deputy Emma Swan."

"There's an emergency in the town graveyard," a voice whispered, distorted and crackly so Emma couldn't identify it. "At the Mills vault."

Emma hastily put her coffee down and reversed the car, tires letting out an ear-splitting screech. Whoever the mystery caller was, the desperation was evident in their voice. "I'm on my way. Can you describe the situation?"

"Inside the Mills vault, in its basement," the voice replied, suddenly cutting out and then returning with, "may die. Hurry!"

As she drove, Emma broke the speed limits and tried to recall what Graham had told her to do in emergency situations. "Please remain calm, are you safe?"

The caller- this time- was clearly masculine when he spoke. "I'm safe. He's not."

With a chilling beep, the line disconnected and Emma had reached the graveyard- which was unusually vast in size, given such a small town. She grabbed both her phone and the walkie-talkie as she left, taking care to shut the car door slowly so as not to make a noise.

The graveyard was difficult to navigate in the dark, but fortunately the Mills vault was easy to locate amongst the other graves due to its grand size. The door was left just ajar, and was well-oiled enough not to make noise as she guided it open enough to squeeze through.

Inside, the vault was narrow and chilly with an obvious absence of colour and cobwebs. On its centre was a tomb inscribed with a very familiar name, 'Henry Mills'. However, the tomb had been pushed aside to reveal a flight of stairs descending downstairs- the source of the light and raised voices.

With trepidation, Emma gingerly put her foot on the first step and some of her fear evaporated when it didn't give way under her weight. As she braved the next step, the voices became more clear and she almost tripped as she identified the owner of the Irish accent. Was he who the anonymous caller had meant was in danger? Either way, she wouldn't let him get hurt.

"It's very unfortunate, Graham, that you had to go and act on your puppy dog crush on Miss Swan," the second voice drawled, painfully casual. "If she hadn't returned your memories to you then we wouldn't be here, but it is what it is and all you need to worry about now is your heart in my hand- alright?"

Graham came into view as Emma stepped two steps at once in her haste. He was in the corner of the room, his normally immaculate Sheriff's uniform dishevelled and dried blood on his nose. He growled at his companion, clearly unable to stand. "I will not hurt her, Regina."

Emma's head whipped to the other side of the room and the gloating woman in her pantsuit with her red fingernails clutching...

Time seemed to stop. Emma almost tripped for the second time, and her whole stay in Storybrooke flashed before her eyes. Henry- who she'd sent to his therapist sobbing- had been right about everything, because in his adopted mother's hand was a human heart. It expanded and deflated in perfect time with Graham's rugged breathing, and when she playfully squeezed it he lost all posture and fell limp from his knees to the floor.

It was real proof of Henry's theory, that all his stories were true. And in that moment, watching Regina exert her control over Graham, it seemed ridiculous that if all this was real, then she was the Saviour supposed to protect everybody.

Regina chuckled cruelly, fully immersed in torturing him. "You'll do exactly what I want, when I want. Heel."

With a sudden newfound speed, Graham crawled on all-fours next to Regina- his pain plainly shown in his twisted expression.

"Now," Regina whispered, caressing his heart, "bring me Emma Swan. She's interfered enough."

Before Emma could fully process what this meant for her and her position, she was dragged off the final few steps and brought face to face with Regina. Graham held her captive with his right arm pressed against her neck- her back touching his chest.

"Sorry, Emma," he spluttered, the tight hold of Regina's fist almost choking the words from him. "I bought you all the time I could."

"Miss Swan," Regina crowed, relaxing her grip on Graham's heart. Emma watched it, refusing to meet Regina's victorious gaze. She hadn't been the best biology student at school, but she was pretty sure Graham's heart shouldn't have had black strands in it.

"So it's true," Emma hissed, struggling slightly in Graham's grip. "Everything Henry said is true and yet you treat him like he's deluded."

Regina tutted. "Don't bring my son into this. This is about you, and how you've messed up my town ever since you set foot in it. For twenty-eight years, my life was perfect- and now, when you're dead, it will be again."

"What about Henry? What will you tell him?"

"It'll be an easy case, Miss Swan. Woman moved to a new town trying to reconnect with her adopted son- illegally may I add- and is a bit too trusting of the locals. One of them convinced her to be his roommate and then kills her," Regina explained with a smirk. "It won't be that hard to prove, seeing as he will be killing you and no judge is going to believe I had anything to do with it. Henry will be devastated, of course, but I'll put up a memorial for you and he'll turn to me for comfort."

Graham tightened his grip on Emma warningly. She stopped twisting, and braved Regina's face. "I won't let you. I'm the Saviour."

Regina tilted her head. "How are you meant to save others when you can't even save yourself? Who are you to stop me, Emma Swan? Look around you- you're outmatched, so-called Saviour. What are you going to do about it?"

It was like the words gave Emma ammunition. Her hands came up from her side and with a flick of her wrist Regina didn't have Graham heart in her hand, Emma did.

Within those next few seconds, a number of things happened. Graham let go of Emma and fell backwards like a puppet whose strings had been cut, his body making a sickening thud as it hit the stone floor. Regina screamed, her eyes wide with fury- her hands trapped with a band of luminous light. Emma collapsed next to Graham's body and started performing CPR before realising his heart wasn't in his chest to restart. But most importantly, Emma Swan began to believe in magic.

She fumbled with her pockets, drowning out Regina's threats but otherwise lost as to how to carry Graham out. One sideways glance at Regina saw the magic binding her hands begin to fade, and Emma made a rash decision.

"Graham... please forgive me, I need to get you out of here," Emma whispered, raising his trembling heart to her lips. "Follow me."

Graham's eyes opened with an urgency, standing despite his shaking body. Once secure that he wasn't collapsing again, Emma sprinted up the stairs and out of the tomb- slamming its door behind her and Graham.

He followed her to the car and although her breathing slowed as she drove off, his didn't. She visibly relaxed, looking nervously at Graham's heart on the dashboard.

"You can have it. I have no idea how to get it back inside of you, though."

Graham nodded, picking it up and staring at it awkwardly. He spoke with a heavy voice. "Henry will know."

Emma assented. "I'm taking you to the hospital, okay?"

"No," Graham insisted with short breaths, as if the effort to talk was too much. "Take us home, the doctors won't know what's wrong with me."

There was silence for a few seconds, bar Graham's heart's rhythmic beat.

"Okay," Emma whispered, taking a deep breath and looking him in the eye. "Okay."

—

Graham woke up sore everywhere and being stared at by a pair of curious brown eyes. He smiled back at their owner out of habit, then winced.

"Henry, you're holding my heart too tight."

"Sorry, I don't know the proper etiquette for this sort of thing," the young boy said, his look of horror quickly masked with a casual shrug. Graham attempted a bark of laughter to reassure him, but it cane out sounding foreign. 

"What's going on, kid?" Emma asked, walking over from the kitchen with a tray of food.

Graham perked up at the sight of both her and the food. "What had been going on? And are those Pixie Sticks?"

Emma laughed, her grin full of unsaid relief. "You passed out in the car before we got home. Thankfully, Archie was around with Henry and volunteered to help me carry you up- but only to the sofa, sorry. Then I took Henry up here, because-"

"I'll tell this bit," Henry interjected, Ken to be involved despite his fearful gaze in Graham’s direction. "It clearly isn't safe with my other mom, as she is the Evil Queen and... you know. And Emma made me admit that I was the one who gave her the tip to where you were, but I don’t regret it because I saved your life! And... and... now...”

He seemed to have run out of steam, his cheerful tone turning paranoid. 

Putting a Pixie Stick in his mouth, Graham nodded to show his understanding and tried to sit up. Emma pur a cushion behind his back hastily. "What happens now? With my heart, Regina and whatever Emma used to stop her last night."

"I've been looking into that," Henry answered, removing his faithful book from his trusty backpack. "M- Emma was using light magic yesterday, but it was her first time and she hasn’t had formal training in it. It seems we need someone who's been practicing magic longer to return your heart, and since my other mom is another issue in our list- we only have one other option."

Graham looked between Emma and Henry. "Who?"

Henry chewed his bottom lip. "Gold." 


	5. the dragon in the basement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this chapter took me so long. I spent about a week procrastinating on killing this one dragon and it threw me off big time. But, in spite of that, please enjoy! I’ve introduced Henry as a new permanent POV this chapter :)

Emma hadn’t wanted to waste any time once Graham had woken up. Last night had been an obvious display of Regina’s power, and she had no idea if she’d be able to use magic again in the heat of the moment. She buried all her questions and fears in order to concentrate on protecting Henry. Yesterday, she would’ve scoffed at her own actions but now she had to believe, after everything she’d witnessed, and take matters into her own hands. First, get Graham’s heart back into his chest and second, break the curse. Avoid Regina like the plague while doing so, and then she could address everything else. Like feelings and familial relations. 

“Okay!” Henry announced, drawing her back to reality. “Operation Wolf is a go!”

Emma raised an eyebrow at him. He was wrapped in his trusty striped scarf with the storybook tucked under his arm. Graham lazily ruffled the boys’ hair, before standing up. 

Immediately, Emma rushed to put his arm across her shoulders to support him. He had stubbornly refused to stay on the couch while Henry and Emma ventured out to the pawnbroker’s, and after a thorough internet search Emma had reluctantly agreed to let him come. Graham didn’t apply for most of the usual recovery advice due to the circumstances surrounding his heart attacks (Emma and Henry had decided that was even the right term for someone who’s heart had been squeezed repeatedly), but it didn’t hurt to be careful. 

Henry grinned at them. “Get it? Because of Graham’s wolf brother?”

The man smiled back at him. Emma wondered if he was as tired as the bags under his eyes made him look. He spoke with a heavy voice, his accent thicker than normal. “I like the name, Henry. I’ll introduce you to him once all this is over.”

The promise pleased Henry, but Emma felt as if she’d been stabbed in the gut. Would all of this ever be over? She seemed to have fallen in a bottomless pit of fairytale villains and magic that she didn’t understand. 

Graham broke the silence. “Let’s get this show on the road.” He smiled. “That’s if Emma allows me to get there without using her as a human crutch.”

Tentatively, he removed his arm from her shoulder, after giving it a friendly squeeze. She sighed, and Henry watched the exchange with a little grin. 

“Alright,” Emma groaned. “But if you collapse, I’m leaving you on the floor to think about the consequences of your actions.”

Her light-hearted tone lacked conviction, but only Graham noticed and he chose not to comment. 

—

“The coast is clear,” Henry whispered into his walkie-talkie, pretending to be interested in the nearest display to the door of the shop. 

He was recognised with static and glanced out of the window to see Emma and Graham walking casually across the street- or at least they were meant to be. Emma kept slowing her nervous fast walk so that Graham stayed by her side, and the Sheriff kept looking up and down the street. 

Henry decided they were lucky that they were cops and not secret agents. And wasn’t luck an Irish thing with those four-leaved plants? Graham sounded Irish, so Henry decided that must be contributing to the reason his other mum hadn’t done something terrible (yet). 

The shop door tinkled as they entered, and Henry put down the hourglass he’d been supposedly examining. Emma and Graham shifted close to Henry, but before either of them could speak Rumplestiltskin spoke. (Rumplestiltskin was his real name, Henry knew, so he wasn’t going to keep up the Queen’s charade. It was a small display of petulance in the scheme of things.) 

“Sheriff Humbert, Deputy Swan,” he said, standing behind the counter and polishing what looked like a goblet. Henry could’ve sworn he hadn’t been there when Emma and Graham had entered. “And Henry. It’s always a pleasure, but isn’t there a search party out looking for you, Sheriff? Our beloved Madame Mayor says you had a heart attack and went missing, although she won’t disclose where she discovered this information.”

Emma folded her arms. “Drop the act, Gold. We both know where she got the information.”

He chuckled, putting down his goblet and cloth, then striding forwards. “And where’s that, dearie?”

Henry watched Graham fight the urge to step back and away. The man took a shaky breath. “My heart. Can you put it back in my…” He trailed off, his fingers at his ribs. 

“And why would I do that? You’re a pawn in a game much bigger than Regina and her obsession with pushing men until they break,” Rumplestiltskin replied, moving the hourglass Henry has been looking at a minute earlier across the display. “A deal with me has to be two-way, but you do not have much use to me here in this land as long as it remains magicless.”

Henry spoke up. “There’s some magic here. My- the Queen’s vault, how she managed to keep her control over Graham’s heart. Emma called on some of it too against her last night.”

That seemed to snap something inside Rumplestiltskin, as he looked down at Emma with a wolfish grin and newfound interest. “Did she now? Well, that changes things.”

Emma swallowed. His gaze unnerved her, as she was sure it was intended to. “How… how did I do that? I’d never done it before.”

“All magic comes with a price,” Rumplestiltskin replied, grin expanding. “The price of your little outburst will be, undoubtedly, Regina’s wrath.”

Henry played with the tassels of his scarf. “You didn’t answer the question.”

The man was unfazed. Henry noted for the first time that- much like Graham’s- his accent appeared British (although Scottish, not Irish) to the ears of this world. 

“There are two possibilities. Firstly, that Miss Swan’s magic acted in self-defence in order to protect her - but since her magic chose to save Sheriff Humbert, rather than herself, it is more likely the second possibility. Her magic reacted for the same reason Sheriff Humbert’s memories were returned to him.”

“And why’s that?”

The victorious smirk returned. “I don’t think you’re ready for the answer to that particular question, Miss Swan. But your query has reminded me of something I saved for a rainy day, and I think that we can make a deal after all.”

Graham and Emma exchanged a meaningful look, each attempting to read the other’s gaze. Between them, Henry made up his mind on their behalf and stuck out his hand. “Done. What do you want in return for returning Graham’s heart?”

“I wouldn’t be so hasty to accept, dearie,” he replied, watching as Henry’s hand (and smile) dropped. “The task I wish your mother and her… friend to complete is by no means an easy one. But, seeing as I’m feeling generous, if you accept I will return Sheriff Humbert’s heart before you set out to complete it.”

Henry looked up at Emma. She hesitated, and he deduced that she must be using her lie-detecting superpower on Rumplestiltskin. 

“Why? A few minutes ago, you had us convinced we were useless,” she said defiantly, her eyes narrowed. Graham, by her side, shifted his weight from foot-to-foot uneasily. A stab of guilt hit Henry as he realised he’d been forgetting to keep an eye on the man and the progress of his recovery. 

“Let’s just say,” Rumplestiltskin said softly, “it’s more likely that you will succeed with assistance, Miss Swan, and that I am invested in your future. It would do me no good to see the Saviour die, and what I will have you acquire for me is far too valuable to risk. But be assured, if you are to fail then I will be taking his heart back and keeping it as payment.” His face showed no emotion as he continued. “Of course, that’s assuming he’s still alive. If you die, Sheriff, please be secure with the knowledge that the deal is void.”

Henry perked up, concern creeping into his tone. “Why would he die?”

Emma spoke at the same time. “What do you want from us?”

“There is an object in the form of a golden egg that our dear mutual acquaintance, Madame Mayor, has locked inside the basement of the clocktower. Or- more accurately- she has locked away the dragon in whose belly the egg resides,” he explained, holding up a hand to silence Emma when she began to protest. “You will meet me in the clocktower in fifteen minutes, where I will have everything prepared for your... mission. You will need this, and I’d recommend taking these few minutes as practice.” From an umbrella stand, Rumplestiltskin revealed a sword that shone in the artificial light. He gripped it by the blade and offered the hilt to Emma, who reluctantly took it from him with wide eyes. “I will look after the boy. The opportunity to thwart Regina is too good to miss. Now, any questions?” 

Graham coughed. Emma reacted violently to the noise, putting an arm around his back and earning herself a subtle glare. He spoke carefully, but didn’t shake her off. “Just a few. Do I get a sword? And, uh, what do you have against Regina? You used to deal with her regularly when I was a guard.”

“Well, you can certainly take your pick of swords. Miss Swan’s belonged to her father,” Rumplestiltskin gestured towards the umbrella stand. “And as for Regina, I recently discovered she had a hand in the death of somebody I loved. Frankly, however, it’s none of your business. And neither is what is inside the egg, at least not yet.” He straightened his suit, and flipped the shop sign to ‘closed’. “Fifteen minutes, Miss Swan. Bring your boys.”

Emma scowled at him. “I haven’t accepted yet. I’m not some dragon slayer or storybook hero. How do you know I’m cut out for this?”

He grinned at her statement, in a way that made Henry shiver. “I know how to recognise a desperate soul, dearie.”

—

“I see you came to your senses, Miss Swan,” Gold said, looking surprisingly regal as he leant against his cane in the centre of the dimly lit room. 

She glared at him. Her nerves were still on edge from earlier, and the idea of a dragon below them wasn’t helping her stay calm. As she opened her mouth to answer him, she felt Graham’s hand settle on her shoulder and abruptly closed it. She was sure the gesture was intended to calm her, but the butterflies it invoked in her stomach just reminded her how important it was that they succeed. 

“We’re ready,” Graham told Gold, who nodded curtly in response. “As soon as I have my heart back in my chest, that is.”

“Indeed.” Gold held out his hand expectantly, and after a pause Emma reached inside the pocket of her infamous red leather jacket and removed it, placing it in his hand. She stared at it on his palm for a second, red and pulsating- black veins crisscrossing it like roads might cover a map.

“How sweet,” Gold remarked, raising it in his fist so that his delicate grip only made Graham screw up his nose in pain. He noted his discomfort with an uncharacteristic smile. “This isn’t going to hurt.”

Gold shoved his fist (and Graham’s heart) into the man’s chest, then withdrew as the man exclaimed in agony. Emma didn’t need her lie detection skills to tell the sorcerer had been lying, and instinctively grabbed his hand- at least the one that wasn’t still on her shoulder. 

“Are you okay, Graham?” Henry asked, breaking the lapse of silence. When Graham nodded- and tentatively removed his hand from Emma’s shoulder to stretch it out experimentally- the colour returned to his cheeks. 

Gold cleared his throat. “Hate to break up the moment, but can we get on with it? There’s still a search party looking for Sheriff Humbert, and I’m not getting any younger over here.”

Henry frowned. “Why does your age matter?” 

“The elevator has to be operated manually from someone above. Unless you’re volunteering.” 

The boy shook his head, and Emma ruffled his hair. Her voice was unsteady as she spoke. “See you in a bit, kiddo.”

His wide grin was full of faith she didn’t believe she deserved. “I know you can do it. You’re a hero, remember?” He turned to Graham before continuing. “Both of you are. No matter what you’ve done in your pasts.”

Graham nodded at him, lingering for a moment as if memorising his features before turning back to face Emma and squeezing her hand. 

And together, they stepped into the elevator, pulled down the grille and descended into the dragon’s den. 

—

“Nice place,” Graham remarked, as he squinted into the gloom. He never would've guessed there was a cavern below the clocktower, but not much in Storybrooke surprised him anymore. His eyes were drawn to an anomaly in the darkness, and he approached it with his sword clutched in his left fist. The weapon felt unbalanced in his palm, and with a sick feeling he recognised the familiar sensation from his time terrorising civilians under Regina’s control. A bow would be more comfortable, a weapon of his choice to ground him with long-forgotten memories of the woodland that had been his home.

He flinched a second after identifying the glass coffin, the irony of the rays of light dancing off it and being swallowed in the darkness not lost on him. Mary Margaret was blissfully innocent of the ghosts that haunted Snow’s past here. 

“Don’t,” Emma warned him, distracted by her own explorations behind him. However uncomfortable Graham’s weapon made him, her two-handed grasp on her father’s sword looked even more awkward. In any other time or place, he would’ve walked over there and held her close until the tension eased from her features- except now her walls had slammed right back up despite all the careful weeks of friendship and late nights shifts. The all-too-real realisation that Graham could leave Emma like everyone else in her life had engaged her fight-or-flight mode. 

His eyes stayed on her a moment more, watching as her hand brushed the wall and… There was their dragon, alright. As it’s yellow eye opened, Emma continued tracing a hand across its scales obliviously. He started to sprint towards her, wishing against the odds for a temporary bout of good health at least until the beast was dealt with. At the noise his footsteps caused, she turned to face him but her words were drowned out by the hiss of the dragon’s coils unfurling and sliding across the rocky floor until Maleficent was suspended above Emma at her full, glorious height. 

Graham barely had time to knock Emma aside and behind a handily-placed pillar (Regina had clearly taken precautions for if she and the dragon ever had to face off) to avoid the sudden flow of lava spurting from the dragon’s mouth. From under the arm that pinned her to the pillar, Emma mumbled a few choice curse words. Graham’s heart beat a frantic rhythm from where they were pressed together and she tried to forget the panic in his gaze the moment she broke eye contact. 

He was meant to be the expert, the one with experience of magical creatures from magical lands. Him betraying that he thought they were screwed meant that they really were- but dying wasn’t an option, not while they both had things to live for. They both had to pretend to be heroes, however foreign a feeling it was. 

“For Henry,” she whispered, breath tickling him as she spoke. He nodded, removing the pressure he had been using to pin her against the pillar. 

She whipped out her gun and revealed herself from behind the pillar, bullet after bullet bouncing off Maleficent’s thick hide. Her aim was impeccable, but it only tickled the beast- who turned her head and her fiery breath onto Emma in annoyance. She made an impressive show of continuously ducking and rolling out of its way, and Graham used the distraction to charge at her from the other side and strike the blade deep into her reptilian eye. The dragon let out a guttural squawk that echoed around the cavern in a deafening reflection of her obvious pain.

Backing into the new blind spot, Emma silently pulled the trigger on her gun to demonstrate that she was out of bullets. He sucked in a deep breath, taking quick steps backwards to join her out of Maleficent’s sight. 

“I can’t get my blade out of her eye,” he shouted, words almost swallowed in Maleficent’s unearthly screeching. “It’s too dense.”

Even despite the circumstances, Emma pulled a face. She swirled her sword in an imperfect circle for show, thankfully avoiding slicing Graham by an inch. “So it has to be me.”

“Yeah,” he yelled back, the truth of their reality settling in. He tried for a quip. “At least your famous leather jacket’s flame-retardant, right?” 

She looked down at her jacket and smiled tightly. “Damn Gold. He knew it had to be me, didn’t he?”

He hesitated before brushing a loose hair behind her ear. “Stop stalling. I believe in you.”

She hesitated too, and before she could think too much about it, she leaned in and kissed him. She kissed him with all the feelings she was too scared to say aloud and all the frantic passion of someone convinced they were about to die. He pulled back from her after only a few seconds, and ducked behind the pillar just in time for Maleficent to recover enough to channel her fury into a full-scale charge at Emma. Emma stood her ground. She was a survivor, and she was going to do what she did best- survive. 

The next few seconds played to Graham as if in slow motion. Emma (oh God, Emma, with her kisses that made him feel and remember) dropped to her knees, wincing at the friction burn produced as she slid under the dragon’s belly- the beast too caught up in the momentum of her attack to stop. Emma’s sword sliced upwards in a wobbly arc that might have drawn attention to her quivering hands, but did its job nonetheless as Maleficent turned to dust and rained down on her. Trembling, Emma reached for the egg that still levitated where the dragon’s belly had been seconds before, defying the rules of gravity. Her shaking hands closed around it, thumbing the ornate gold pattern with a breath of relief, and then a choked laugh. Within seconds, Graham was at her side- tentatively touching the egg and he turned to Emma with a genuine smile. 

She grabbed onto him as if to steady herself and buried her face into his shoulder, the egg tucked under her arm. He let himself laugh then too, fingers caressing his rib cage and his beating heart, still a little too fast to the touch. 

“I told you I believed in you,” he whispered, and as she looked up at him, tears she’d later deny streaking her dusty cheeks, he realised she’d never looked more beautiful. Heroes weren’t born, they were made, and Emma Swan had made herself a damn brilliant hero. 


	6. henry’s pack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you defend Regina in any way for her actions towards Graham or her treatment of Henry before her relationship with him miraculously became loving in S3 for no apparent reason, I don’t recommend reading this.
> 
> That being said, I’m sure many Graham fans can relate to me when I say I felt an overwhelming urge to have somebody yell at Regina. 
> 
> Thanks for the beta and reassurance, wickedalwayswins! :)

Henry’s nerves were shot. He wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but he knew he felt like he was simultaneously going to pass out and throw up at the same time. It had been twenty-seven excruciatingly slow minutes and eighteen painful seconds since his mum and Graham had descended to retrieve the egg. 

And then he heard his mum’s voice. The actual words themselves floated over his head, but the overwhelming sense of relief hit him full-force. Though it had not been long since he had dragged Emma into his life, he could not imagine it without her- especially not now that she finally believed. 

Rumplestiltskin began to operate the elevator, and soon after Henry had himself wrapped in his mother’s arms. It took him a second to blanch at the sooty substance that she was covered in, and for Rumplestiltskin to cough bemusedly. 

“Sorry to break up the reunion,” he said, his smirk so prominent you could hear it in his smug tone. His eyes flashed over to where Graham was watching awkwardly as the other two embraced. “But either I’ll be needing the egg or I’ll be removing his heart.”

Henry was a bit disappointed by the egg in question, barely larger than Graham’s fist as he handed it over to Rumplestiltskin. It was the kind of gold that looked fake in the light, and it’s intricate pattern seemed unnecessarily flamboyant. 

It seemed that Rumplestiltskin didn’t care. He smirked another one of his smirks, terrifying and intriguing Henry at the same time with the ferocity of his apparent victory. In that moment, he understood what he’d learnt at school about predators luring in their prey. Rumplestiltskin ran his fingers over the design in well-practiced circles. “Thank you, Huntsman.”

Graham flinched at the title, but disguised it with a shrug and a ghost of a smile. He crossed the room to Emma and Henry, and then made his way past them towards the door. Emma motioned to follow him, but Henry stated rooted in his place- eyes fixed on Rumplestiltskin and the egg.

“Why?” What’s inside the egg?”

He didn’t expect a response, let alone the one he got. “Magic. Or at least, the thing that’s going to bring it back.”

“You can’t!” Henry exclaimed, panic overwriting his curious gaze immediately. His relief had been short-lived. “The Queen, she’ll… she doesn't need any more power than she already has. With magic, she’ll be unstoppable. She’ll come after me, and Graham, and my other mum.”

“While I can not deny that our illustrious Mayor will doubtlessly come for you, Henry, she will by no means have the upper hand. It was my curse, as she forgets, and as long as it remains intact she will never know magic is back. It will remain our secret, until the time is right. This is meant to be the land without magic, after all, so there will be no purple clouds heralding its arrival. Magic will be right under her nose and she’ll ignore it just like everybody else.” 

“What’s in keeping it secret for you?” Emma asked, drawn back into the conversation despite herself. Graham still lingered in the doorway behind her, his stress palpable. 

His smirk expanded, something Henry hadn’t thought to be possible. “You still owe me a favour, dearie. It’ll be no use to me if you’re dead.”

“Come on, Henry,” Emma insisted, putting an arm around his shoulders and guiding him out of the clocktower and down the street. His gaze was despondent as he shuffled down it, and the adults slowed their strides to keep up with him, casting wary looks around them. 

“Sheriff!” 

It’d be too much to hope to get down main street without making a scene. 

Graham stopped in his tracks, his expression automatically becoming wooden and his tone hardening. He turned on his heel, now hyper-aware of the dishevelled state he was walking down the street in. “Dr. Hopper.”

Henry’s therapist was approaching Graham with a puzzled expression and a nervous smile. “Are you quite alright? I’ve just come back from the woods, where Madame Mayor is orchestrating the search for you.”

With what Henry assumed was years of practice, Graham remained still under the calculating gaze. You could see the cogs turn in Archie Hopper’s stare: the supposedly missing Sheriff, the ex-felon covered in soot from head to toe and the Mayor’s boy whom she’d taken to him this time yesterday shaking. 

“I am not Regina’s to be concerned about, and I am clearly not missing, sir,” Graham said curtly. “But if I were her, I’d be more concerned about the fact I am still an officer of law and that from now on, she has to watch her back.”

The shrink was visibly left reeling by the venom in his voice. With a deep intake of breath, the Huntsman turned and proceeded down the street with Henry and Emma left speechless to follow. It took the pair a few minutes to catch up with him, but only because he fumbled with his apartment keys at the door. 

Once all three were inside and the door was locked, Emma took a deep breath. “Graham, what was that?” 

Henry knew. He looked between the stiff stance of Graham and the defensive one of his mother, then hurtled himself at Graham with all the strength he had left. They had the same skeleton in their closets, after all. The one Henry felt he couldn’t escape, who Rumplestiltskin had made him very aware would kill Emma given the chance to fix her crazed fantasy. The one who he had heard in Graham’s threat just now, her claws still deep inside him despite his newfound freedom.

—

“Talk to me,” Graham said, after the fragile boy with his arms around his waist had stopped crying in the way that left a wet stain on his shirt and tie. His mother had excused herself to take a shower when it had become obvious that neither of them were talking soon. Graham didn’t blame her, although he couldn’t speak for Henry, but he still wished she wasn’t still hiding behind her walls following the defeat of Maleficent. 

“I want to stop the Evil Queen, Graham… but she’s still my mum, isn’t she? I really, really want to hate her and most of the time, I do. But there’s that small part of me that wants her to choose good, that thinks we can come back from this. She’s still the woman that made me soup when I was sick, but that doesn’t make her not the woman who let me cry myself to sleep during thunderstorms or who I ran from all those times. But Emma isn’t what I imagined either. I mean… she's _phenomenal_ and she’s trying, but it makes me wonder where I belong.”

Graham stayed quiet for a minute to make sure he was done before bending down onto his knees and meeting Henry’s eyes. The boy was so brave, and spoke with the wisdom of a much older soul than he really was. “I don’t know where I belong either, Henry. Graham is not the Huntsman, because it’s not black and white. I am neither and both. And Graham may have been a figment of Regina’s imagination, but I choose to use his name and wear this badge. These are my choices as both the hunter raised by wolves and the cop who grew up in the foster system. It’s the same with everything else. Your family are the people you choose, Henry. Whether those be blood relatives or anyone else, they are the people you love and you trust. They are where you choose to belong.”

Henry sniffled. “What if she chooses me?”

“You have to choose her back for it to mean anything, Henry. As long as you say that is not where you belong, there are people like me and Emma who will fight for you. Your pack.”

“Who’s your pack?”

“My wolf brother. You, if you’ll have me.”

The boy didn’t hesitate before nodding. “And Emma? We can stay together, and protect each other?” Graham assented, and he continued. “Okay. I think I get it. I can… I can not choose her but still not want to hurt her?”

“Yeah, Henry,” Graham said, wiping the tear-tracks from his cheeks. “That’s what it means to be human.” 

—

Emma resisted the urge to stand up and yell at everyone in the diner as the three of them sat in their regular booth for dinner. Henry was licking the salt from his chips off his fingers, and Graham was wiping up a minor ketchup spillage with a wad of paper napkins. Nobody seated around them, gawking and whispering unashamedly, knew the strength it took for the two of them to be out here. 

It was doubtful that this small town and its vicious rumour mill would ever be Emma’s home, but it was enough that the people in it were. She had to defend them, whether it was from dragons or evil adoptive mothers. That was the priority, to protect the two people in the entire world who believed in her. Their pack, Henry had called it, as he had tentatively approached her after her shower. 

It was a strange feeling. Her initial attraction to Graham she could deal with- their casual flirtation was familiar, even now that it had strings attached. His blind faith, both their storybook pasts, the fact she had let down her walls only for him to nearly die on her. Their second kiss in the cavern that she was pretending hadn’t happened because she’d be damned if he brought down her walls a second time. If he got hurt now, as her friend, it would be devastating- but she was not having a repeat of Neal. Not now Henry was involved, and this foreign feeling she got in her gut around him and Graham. 

She was jostled from her thoughts by the nauseatingly familiar sound of heels against Granny’s marble. The sharp sounds seemed to suck all other noise out of the diner, and Graham froze like a statue across from Emma. Emma slowly turned her head to look at Regina, and then looked down again. 

With her smudged lipstick and hellhound glare Regina looked more comical than angry, and after the day she’d had Emma didn’t trust herself not to burst out laughing. 

Tone crisp, Regina folded her arms and addressed them armed with an authoritative glare. “I have no idea what you two are playing at, but Henry is my son. And he’s coming home with me.”

“No.” 

Everyone in the whole diner turned to face Henry, sat between Graham and the wall, his eyes lit up with defiance. “I don’t choose you.”

“Excuse me?” Regina hissed, reaching over the tabletop and grabbing his wrist. “Henry, stop this nonsense. We’re going home.”

Henry wriggled free of her grip and stood on the cushion of his seat so that he stood taller than her. Storybrooke watched him with bated breath.

“You’re not listening! You never listen! I don’t choose you, okay? You’re not my mum anymore, no matter what it says on my adoption certificate. Whether you force me home with you or not, that is not changing. Because I will never choose you again. You will look me in the face every morning and remember that I am only here because you are making me, and because you will have dragged me to your home against my will.”

“This is ridiculous, Henry. What does Ms Swan have that I don’t? You’re my son, I raised you in _our_ home,” Regina scoffed, reaching out to touch her son again. 

He flinched away from her. “I’m not your son.” He took a deep breath before repeating his mantra. “I don’t choose you. I choose Graham, and Emma, who have both been better parents to me than you ever have.” 

By now, Emma and Graham were both upright too, Graham reflexively standing in front of Henry. Regina let out a strangled sound, but before she could do anything else someone spoke sharply to her.

“That’s enough, sister. You’re not laying another hand on the boy,” Leroy growled, and that was the catalyst. 

Most of the diner regulars, faces Emma had become familiar with over her stay in Storybrooke, began to chip in to defend Henry. His speech seemed to have roused something in the sleepy citizens of the town powerful enough to momentarily break through their morbid fear of their Mayor. 

Graham gestured to Henry, and the boy used the advantage of his height atop his seat to climb onto his back and assume piggyback position. Regina watched helplessly as, with a glare that promised Regina hell if she followed them, Henry and his guardians vacated the diner. 

Across the road, in the dark, Mr Gold suppressed a chuckle. Things were changing in Storybrooke, and he was backing the winning side. 


End file.
